Dear, Dear Diary
by I-Plead-Obsession
Summary: You don’t know me. I don’t know you. But, this is my story of how my brothers and I survived, for you already know our deaths. LozxKadajxYazoo
1. Chapter 1

**RATING** _**NC-17!! DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18, THIS STORY CONTAINS GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, POSSIBLE RAPE, GRUESOME SCENES AND OTHER MATURE CONTENT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**_ **(I CANNOT BE HELD RESPONSIBLE!!!)**

**Disclaimer:** **Final Fantasy VII, its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.**

**Pairing:** **Kadaj X Loz X Yazoo **

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_**Dear, Dear Diary...**_

**Chapter One:**

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You don't know me. I don't know you. But, this is my story of how my brothers and I survived, for you already know our deaths.

My name is Loz.

My age, is unknown, even to myself.

I have no past, nor do I have future. All that I have is the present, my brothers, and the hopeless, heartbreaking dream of life that we will never, ever know.

I suppose I should start from the beginning, maybe then my life –if that is what you would call it- would be less confusing to you.

I don't remember much of my early years. But, I will tell you all that I know, in hope to allow our story to be heard.

My brothers at the moment are laughing at me, but what else is knew? They find my futile attempt at a biography amusing, and yet, I can see the flicker of hope – that our story will be heard – in their familiar and oddly comforting jade eyes.

My birth was not an official one. Yes, there were doctors, scientists and nurse personnel but, there were no certificates, crying mothers or even warm embraces. Only cold clinical eyes, frozen touches, and merciless inspections.

Hell, in all instances, my birth cannot even be considered a birth. For, I was incubated in an artificial womb until the time of my 'supposed' birth would occur, then they moved my small, helpless, feeble, unconscious body to a glowing mako chamber where I remained for the first year of my life.

It was not until they removed me – alive and aware – from that chamber, did they consider me even alive.

Loz is what they named me, or rather dubbed me for easier identification, for in truth, I had two names; 'Unit experiment -- 56-L-24-O-91-Z-20-01' being my original name.

My name – 'Unit experiment -- 56-L-24-O-91-Z-20-01'- was my 'supposed' true name, password, and my curse. It was the only thing that truly bound me to them, and they would make sure that it would always remain. Thusly, they tattooed it on my right shoulder as soon as they registered me as awake and aware enough to feel the pain. Even today, it still leaves a gruesome reminder of my life.

Now to the doctors, I was a mystery; to the scientists, I was an anomaly; and to the very few, exclusive, first class soldiers - that were allowed a meager glimpse of me - I was a threat. For, even in my infant years, I rivaled their overall body strength. And, at the age of three, I was quite known for breaking the soldiers' mako reinforced bones, much like you would a simple dried up twig that you would find lying in the street during a warm autumn afternoon. I always found it funny that my 'toys' always needed to be replaced, the Shinra personnel? Not so much.

All-in-all, my life was -albeit simple- a very lonely and painful experience. For, if I was not being monitored by a mobile camera in my small, sterile, bleached white box for a cell, I was either strapped to the familiar bone chilling, medical steel gurney while being experimented on or I was being tested on in the equipment room, where I ran treadmills and lifted weights.

Although, if there was one salvation - or rather mercy- ever given to me, it was my drug.

Now in the beginning, I fought until long after I bled and passed out against being injected regularly – and quite often I might add - with the volatile glowing green mixture of mako and mother's cells. But, eventually, I grew tired, and in an odd way, the familiarity of those injections, grew comforting, and thusly, addicting.

The pain though, was always unbearable. There is no way a person could imagine that pain, but I will try and enlighten you to even a tidbit of what I felt.

Imagine the pinch of the cold sterile needle under your skin, and a freezing burn that slowly creeps through your veins as more and more of the deadly mixture is slowly injected into you. Now, imagine each and every muscle in your body, starting to convulse and cramp, leaving you straining against the well worn, dark leather and metal straps, in a hopeless attempt to escape the liquid flowing through your veins, seemingly dissolving everything in its wake.

But now, that was only the after affects of the initial injection. It was later when I sat huddled and shivering in the farthest corner of my cell, when the real pain would come.

Imagine, gut wrenching nausea; fevers; hot flashes; bone-cracking seizures; suicidal self mutilation; head splitting migraines; horrific delusions and so much more…

The odd thing was, in the end, I enjoyed every minute of it.

The mako rush I always received at the end of it all was addicting. The surge of power was mind blowing. You became numb to the world, and yet, everything was overly sensitive to the point you could feel no pain, only pleasure.

Oh the scientists had a field day with my ever growing addiction, and were more than happy to provide me with the drug when I went through even worse withdrawals.

In their minds, I was becoming perfection.

I had all the strength and agility they could ever want. I was breathtaking with my shocking silver hair and glowing mako eyes that stood out against my pale skin. I was their prodigy, well, until I learnt to speak.

As early as I can remember, they shoved mind puzzles, school work, and every other form of intellectual work in front of me. But, that was where I was deemed a failure.

I thought I was doing well. In regular terms, I graduated high school when I was six. At seven I already had four master degrees under my belt, and over twenty when I was twelve. But, according to them, my intellect was lacking and my emotions were programmed wrong.

To them, I had become a failure.

And, that was when the real pain started.

They tried to make my mind 'up to par' as they put it, by giving me mind puzzles that always had some sort of bodily harm involved in order to solve them. All the while, I was given ever increasing mako and Jenova concoctions, in hopes to tame my wild emotional fits.

But, all that work only served one purpose, to slowly kill me.

I was alone and in constant agonizing pain. My comfort was slowly killing me. My mind was painstakingly breaking down and dying. All that I was left with was my tears.

But, by the end of my twelfth year, all that changed.

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**AN: ****Alright, this is a new story, sort of. It is part of Send Me An Angel…Tainted With Scarlet but, it can be read as a totally separate story...i.e. what it is here.**

**I always wanted to write my version of the trio's past. And forgive me for the short length of this fan-fiction. IT WILL GET LONGER!!! **

**Now, this entire thing will be written mostly in Loz's POV; which, as far as I can tell, has never been done before. It's always in Kadaj's or Yazoo's POV or 3rd person. So...here's something that is hopefully original. **

**I hope you enjoy it.**

**Kou-Shuurei**


	2. Chapter 2

**RATING:**_**NC-17!! DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18, THIS STORY CONTAINS GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, POSSIBLE RAPE, AND OTHER GRUESOME SCENES AND MATURE CONTENT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**_** (I CANNOT BE HELD RESPONSIBLE!!!)**

**Disclaimer:**** Final Fantasy VII, its story, and characters are the property, copyright and trademark of Square Electronic Arts L.L.C., and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.**

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_**Dear, Dear Diary...**_

**Chapter Two:**

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It was late into my twelfth year when my life changed. Whether it was for the better, even to this day, I have yet to determine. But nevertheless, my life had changed.

I remember it like it was only yesterday. Maybe it was yesterday, who am I to judge?

I sat huddled in my dark and dank cell, fighting against the chilling after affects of my fading comfort, when they – and by they I mean the soldiers - came for me; but nothing was unusual there. I was always being taken and shoved somewhere, despite my obvious pain.

It seemed that lately, the researchers were having trouble finding a place for me. So instead to vent their frustrations, they withheld the welcoming comfort of my addiction, forcing me into the near cataclysmic withdrawals.

In the few moments I was allowed peace, I always found their tortures ironic, for they always made it seem like everything was my fault, which it probably was, but it was funny considering that I was their failure.

I was dragged, kicking and screaming to the point of drawing blood, out of my cell; but I was too weak to really make a difference. My pain had slowly become the soldier's sadistic pleasure. They always relished the chance to make me bleed, to see my blood – that had jeweled to a sparkling hue from too many mako injections - splattered and glittering across the walls of my cell; like lost jewels found in darkened cave.

Even despite my struggles, I was chucked haphazardly into a new, slightly larger cell, much like my old one. Except, this one had a single, stainless steal, fold down prison bunk along the right side, and a small enclosed bathroom attached.

Oh what luxuries I was given, and in my mind I must have been good, considering my previous cell contained nothing except pools of excrement, fresh and dried blood, and god knows what else.

But my new found, pain ridden glory was quickly ruined by the grinding swish of the automatic door opening and shutting behind the soldiers once more.

'Dear god, please not again,' I inwardly begged, the pain already too much to bear; But fortunately, they just shoved something in my new dim cell and left. Leaving whatever they threw to land with a sickening thump beside me.

I just sat there, stunned and too shocked to move. It was only when I heard a quiet pain ridden moan - that was not my own- erupt beside me, did I realize what had happened.

I was not alone anymore. Mind you, at that moment I would have quite literally killed to be alone in my new cell. Unfortunately, it appeared as thought someone was worse off beside me.

Ever so slowly, I crept towards the darkened lump, and it was not until I was about a foot away did my surprise reappear.

I wasn't alone.

I wasn't the only one anymore…

This simple thought that many of you take for granted, shattered my small world.

I wasn't alone anymore.

Unfortunately at the precise moment, I had no time to dwell on this new revelation. For although I was in excruciating pain, this new being was in more.

I didn't know when I moved exactly, but sometime during my sadistic musings, I had crawled my way over towards him.

Now you must be wondering how I found out it was a boy. Well in all honesty, I didn't. It was just something I knew, and never really questioned.

I have no doubt in my mind that we made a pathetic picture, as we sat huddling in our own every growing, puddle of sparkling blood. Our bodies dripped life essence in a deep and steady rhythm, much like the patter of synthetic rain I heard once; and if it wasn't so morbid, it would almost be a comforting sound.

But as I cradled his head in my lap – with our long silver hair pooling around us, stained with splatters of crimson flowers, and our bodies stained red as if an artist took his brush to us - my mind could think of nothing more beautiful.

It had seemed as if for that single moment, we had become two lost and broken fallen angels. Just like the ones I read about years earlier when I was still permitted to read at my discretion.

We were no longer forgotten failures.

We were perfect.

We were perfection...

It is an image I will never forget.

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Time passed by, and my mind soon began to wander aimlessly despite my attempts otherwise. If you had asked me how much time had passed before the boy had slowly started to awaken and break me from my musings, I wouldn't be able to tell you.

Fortunately though, our blood had long ago clotted and cooled to a nauseating dry crust. Such a waste though, I wish I could have had more time to make our jeweled offering even more precious.

'No matter,' I solemnly thought to myself, 'there will always be more of it.'

Ever so slowly, the boy's eyes opened to reveal matching jade eyes of a sparkling hue.

I could see the fear in his eyes, but that was not what made my breath hitch or my heart race.

Innocence; I saw innocence. Something I was never gifted.

"Who are you? Where am I?" questioned the obviously frightened boy, as he quickly maneuvered himself out of my lap to cower alongside the wall, away from me.

"Loz," I easily replied, seemingly unaffected by his trembling form. "And as for where you are, I have no idea myself."

We could only stare at each other in a stunned shock.

After a while, I painfully eased myself up off the floor and out of the bloody mess, eager to escape his startling presence.

"98-Y-78-A-44-Z-12-OO" whispered the boy from his fetal position along the wall.

I stopped, utterly shocked by his hushed whisper. I wasn't even sure I heard him, thinking it was just another trick my fucked up brain had come up with.

His eyes remained downcast, yet his words were clear "My name, it's 98-Y-78-A-44-Z-12-OO."

I could only smile endearingly. 'Yazoo, huh... fitting,' I mused.

"Come on," I limped over, my many injuries far from healed, and offered a hand to help him up. "No point sitting in this shit," chuckling I continued, "the least we can do is check this place out."

Solemnly nodding, the boy firmly gripped my hand – which I couldn't help but notice, appeared small and fragile compared to mine- and I helped him from his position on the floor.

Something inside me couldn't resist him. Whether it was his large crystalline jade eyes, soft silver hair, or petite frame; he was just too innocent and naive for his own good. And something – I don't know what, even to this day – vowed to always protect him.

"Come on Yazoo, might as well get to know this place, seeing we're gonna be here for a while."

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Get to know each other, we did.

For the next year we became utterly inseparable. We trained together, ate together, slept in the same cell, even failed together.

It turned out he and I were exactly the same – minus a few major differences. We both had been created for the same thing, of which we were sure, but what exactly we never knew.

All we knew was that we were considered failures.

But something was odd between us. We never really noticed it until late in our thirteenth year.

We were connected.

Mind you, Yazoo and I never noticed, but it we did things together, odd things. It was like we could predict each other movements; read each others thoughts. For example, during our skill experimentation and technical training against the soldiers, we automatically worked as a team. We never spoke a word, never looked at each other, and yet I knew exactly where I needed to be to best help Yazoo, and vice versa. Our skills immediately – even since the first session – blended to match each other.

Together we were seemingly perfect.

We never noticed though. It had just become second nature to us.

Now for a while this phenomenon amused the scientists and researchers, but not for long. They wanted more. No sorry, they _demanded_ more. But we were always at a loss. It was much like the blind leading the blind. Sure, we had the skills to go farther, to be more but absolutely no urge to do so, let alone know how. We had no purpose. So again, we were branded as failures.

But that was the least of our problems….

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Now this may surprise you, but Yazoo used to be alive, vibrant, and surprisingly talkative; Naïve yes, but oddly brilliant. He had no fears about speaking his mind, and had even less qualms about acting upon them.

Thusly, we used to lay beside each other for ours in our shared bunk, just talking. But one night, something changed.

One night while we lay nuzzled against each other, I heard Yazoo whisper "I'm sorry…" into the shell of my ear before lips covered my own, and my eyes sprang open, startled, surprised. "What did you do?" I wearily asked, not that it wasn't nice, it only shocked me. I'd seen people kiss, in both art and in person but I'd never wondered about it. It seemed vaguely foolish to me until I felt Yazoo's soft, barely there contact on my own mouth. It was nothing like what I'd once imagined.

"I always wondered what your lips tasted like…" murmered Yazoo as he broke the kiss and pulled away a small fraction, his eyes half lidded in staring wantonly at me.

Yazoo's head dipped forward again, his hands sliding down to cradle the back of my neck and his mouth brushed against my lips again. There was no tension or surprise in my lips this time and with Yazoo's lips so soft and pliant against my own, I could only close my eyes and kiss him.

Each brushing, teasing contact promised something more and yet we both held back simply because we were painfully aware that this was our first kiss; and we were horribly under educated.

Suddenly our kiss changed.

The lips kissing my own parted as well and things became wet and hot, soft velvet and sharp teasing teeth. It startled me to find the white haired man's teeth lightly nibbling on one of my lips but it wasn't a bite, it didn't hurt and it stole my breath. I couldn't help but comply and part my lips further as a hand slipped from my neck to the back of my head. A tongue, strong and demanding, slipped into my mouth and tasted of tart, sweet berries. I wouldn't have been able to fight even if I'd planned to, my spine had dissolved now and I was embarrassed to find I was as hard as I had ever been.

The hand that remained on my neck trailed down, over a shoulder. I would have missed the touch, the motion, so lost was I in the taste and feel of the kiss, but the fingertips pressed against the soft cotton of my shirt and added small points of pressure and soft warmth. They trailed over my shoulder and down to my back, stroking down my spine to settle fully on the small of my back.

There was a small shuffling of feet and a rush of warmth a second before I pressed Yazoo's firmly against my own.

Yazoo's lips parted as soon as we kissed again but now both of us found it difficult to breathe. I could tell our body's tingled as his breath moved in gasps but with our mouth's claiming each other, it was almost impossible to get a full breath. It made me feel light headed and unstable and without thinking about it my hands came up and rested on Yazoo's chest. The simple touch made me feel grounded, stable and less like we were about to stumble and fall down.

My strong hands stroked across his face, across his hair. It was almost too much to process all at once, the feel of the kiss and the feel of those hands gently, softly touching me. I never knew for it to feel so good but it did, as the hands brushed across his shoulder it felt good. Even as the hands wandered down his sides and tickled a little, down over his ribs to settle on his back, it felt good.

"Take your shirt off." I requested in a breathless whisper.

Slender fingers paused for only a second before Yazoo caught the hem of the shirt and lifted it up over his head. Grey lifted away and silver heavy silken hair cascaded down against olive skin. I leaned over and claimed him in another kiss.

My fingertips as gentle as a whisper, as soft as a thought brushed against Yazoo's skin. The touch had felt good with cloth between us but it felt a hundred times better directly on his skin. I'd never have guessed that a careful touch to his shoulders would inspire pleasure or the feel of a careful hand trailing down his bare arm could make him shiver.

When his hands slipped back up my arms and to the back of my shoulders to wander down my bare back, I found myself almost arching into the contact, almost begging for more.

The kiss broke and we both were left gasping for breath. Kisses returned to cover my face, jaw, even my neck and that forced soft, hushed, sighing mews from deep within my throat. How could something as simple as the press of another man's lips to my neck feel so good? This had to be wrong, I should be trying to please Yazoo but instead I sat there, shivering in pleasure as tender hands circled my waist.

"Please….oh….let me….tell me how….to…to pleasure you…."

"Your pleasure pleases me…." Yazoo sighed against an ear.

"Let me…I…I want to make this nice for you…." I let a hand trace up his ribs just to see how the other man would react, I let my thumbs trace over his already hard nipples.

"Oh!" Yazoo shivered, his entire body arched forward into the touch. I continued my assault on his neck and shoulders.

I had to bite my lip to hold back more gasping moans as those skillful fingers started to roll my nipples gently and sent shockwaves of pleasure across my body. Worse, my manhood was aching in a deeply painful way. It hurt, I wanted to touch it, to rub it and then it occurred to me; if Yazoo's hands felt so good on his chest, how much better would they feel lower?

"You're so responsive…" Yazoo whispered

"Your point?" I gasped

All of his answer I heard was a gentle tone and no anger or disappointment before his kisses moved lower. They burned over my collarbone and to the hollow of my throat. The kisses turned wet and hot as Yazoo nipped and licked my chest and I was again startled by how physically good it felt. Until that hungry mouth replaced a teasing hand and closed over my already tormented nipple.

I lost all thought then. I heard myself gasping in hushed moans as a fever of delight filled me. So lost was I in the unexpected pleasure, that I didn't feel myself arching into the contact or notice that Yazoo gently coaxed me back and down onto the bed.

Silver hair, long and soft of down, fell across my chest. It tickled as a counter point to the wet intensity of the mouth tormenting me. Carefully, I let go of his grip on the bed sheet and let one hand drift up to touch the stray strand of hair. It was soft and fine, like a puff of cloud; exactly like mine.

Carefully, softly, I stroked the boy's stomach, low down across his waist to where his pants hung but Yazoo didn't seem to notice the gradual progression lower of my hands. I found the tie to the cotton pants and easily loosened the bow. I should have given more warning but at that moment, I couldn't care.

I carefully kissed back up the slender body, back to find the spots that had seemed to please Yazoo the most as I slipped my hand just under the fabric of those loose pants. It was a matter of timing and as my hand slipped low enough to be noticed, his mouth again was claimed another kiss. Then my hand was there, gliding over the sticky dew of Yazoo's desire, and I was surprised by just how aroused the other boy was. Yazoo arched as I curled my hand around his length and I devoured his startled moan with a breathtaking kiss.

I broke the kiss and pulled away enough to watch the look on Yazoo's face. Those haunting jade eyes were closed but his face was open and unguarded. It was beautiful to see such surprised delight, to hear him making no effort now to stop the whimpering moans that poured from his throat.

The tone of the moans took on a desperate, painful edge. I hadn't expected Yazoo to make it very far tonight without finding release but I hadn't expected the boy to respond so strongly, be so close to release so soon. "Shhh… it's okay… let go, Yazoo…" I leaned down and whispered into the shell of the boy's ear.

Maybe it was the feel of my breath on his skin or the hushed permission or maybe it was simply the pleasure of being touched for the first time but Yazoo arched hard over me. He gasped for breath, mewed, and cried out. His hands clenched into tight fists on the bed and his toes curled up. Release, slick and fevered hot glossed my hand and I watched as Yazoo's face twisted up in beautiful passion before soothing down to relaxed ease.

I continued to stroke the softening length, slow and gently as Yazoo came down from his climax until my hand eventually stilled but continued to hold the soothed flesh gently in my hand. I sat and watched to see if shame or fear would creep across the boy's face but when all hands fell away all I saw in the mako eyes was worry.

"I'm sorry" he whispered, his eyes quickly averted from looking into mine, although he remained straddling me in a most delicious way.

I was confused. Why was he sorry? Was it because he knew not of his bodies reactions? Or was it because he knew them too well?

"Why? What happened was natural, havn't you been taught?" nothing was making sense. Sure both of us were virgins, but surely he knew of his bodies natural reactions. Unfortunately, most of the important clues were fogged and forgotten as my burning need refused to be neglected.

Crystalline tears slowly dripped down his pale cheeks, "I will not lie to you Loz…"

Ok, I was really confused now.

"I am not a virgin. The soldiers… they...before I was brought in here they…" his words faded as his sobs became more clear.

My world shattered. "Raped you…" I finished.

He could only nod his head between his choked sobs, "they made me enjoy it. And today was no different"

After a few heart wrenching cries past, Yazoo continued. "Please," he begged, "love me tonight. I need you…"

My anger slowly left me as he stared deep into my eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks. Each sob broke my heart, and nothing could stop me from what I did next.

"Take this off." I pulled at the hem of Yazoo's pants and stripped off my own as Yazoo obeyed. Now, when I stretched out again against the other body, flesh slid along flesh. It allowed me to run his hands across that expanse of skin as I laid a path of soft, careful kisses on lips and neck.

Exploring, teasing, fingertips slid over a pebble hard nipple and Yazoo gasped. I sighed against his neck and increased the pressure and hunger of my mouth on that sensitive column of flesh. I made wet those errant fingertips and as my tongue swirled in lazy patterns on all those sensitive spots, I ran light, tormenting circles over that hard bundle of nerves. A hand buried itself in my hair, clutching.

Slowly, my mouth worked downward, teasing the hypertensive hollow of the throat, dragging out hushed moans, down to nip at collarbones. My hand trailed over to the neglected nipple and teased it into tormented life before sliding down to tickle across the ridge of ribs, tracing the flat ridges of muscle to the delicate navel. As my fingers swirled around that tiny divot my mouth closed over a hard nipple.

The body now below me arched off the bed. Yazoo tossed his head to the side and covered his mouth embarrassed by the delicious torture I was eliciting once again.

My teeth nipped the nub in my mouth and I kissed sideways, pausing to lick the ridge of breastbone, before finding the other nipple and hungrily devouring it. My hand dipped lower, teasing at the edge of the cotton pants, scrapping nails along the tops of the exposed hip bones. The hand Yazoo had tangled in my long hair slid down and touched my bare shoulder before sliding lower to my back.

I leaned down and nipped the bottom edge of Yazoo's ribs. "Oh!" He called out and his body writhed. A caressing hand held him in place, only the gentle touch along his aching hardness didn't do much to settle him down.

The level of Yazoo's sensitivity was shocking, and it made me smile wickedly as I swiped a tongue across a hip bone and palmed that deliciously hard length. I eventually kissed his way across that flat plane, distracting with touch, and catching Yazoo unaware by a wide, hot tongue across the head of his cock.

"Don't!" he cried out but the sight of me slowly sucking his length into hot mouth seemingly made him forget how to speak.

I lifted my head just enough to catch those almost glowing jade eyes. "Don't? You don't like this?" I ran a long, slow, lick from base to tip before sucking the head into my mouth. Yazoo's head lolled back but he didn't pull away.

"I don't," he swallowed hard and looked like he was trying to think. "You shouldn't have to."

That was surprising enough to make me pause. "This," I drew the hard length into my mouth. "Isn't done because I have to," I nipped lightly, teasingly. "It's done because I want to." Slowly, I eased his head downward, feeling Yazoo's eyes on me, until I'd managed to fit nearly every inch into my mouth, to the back of my throat. I heard Yazoo whimper and felt him fall limply back to the bed as I slowly slid the length back out. "The feel, the taste of you, God, Yazoo, is amazing."

Unfortunately, I pulled away.

"But, I thought we were, I, Oh, that's nice." Yazoo mumbled as I moved up to nibble on his ear.

I chuckled. "I'm glad you approve, but," carefully I pressed my own still hard and aching body into Yazoo's hips. "Unless you say otherwise, we aren't finished."

"Than why did you, I mean, why," he sighed.

"Because I wanted to," there was no teasing in my tone and my words carried the weight of his full seriousness. I bowed his head and kissed that haunting neck. "Don't worry," I whispered into the hot skin. "The next time you come my cock will be hard in you."

I ran my non-slicked hand across one of those gracefully folded legs, admiring the strength in them before I lifted it and settled the limb on my shoulder. My teasing fingertips continued to gently stroke across that leg, judging the growing tension and unease by the tautness of the muscles.

I kept his eyes on Yazoo's half hidden face as I slid slick fingers – which I sucked on earlier- back, lower, seeking. The leg and hip under my soothing hand tensed but not a flicker of unease crossed Yazoo's face. Carefully, the slick fingers found the hidden ring of muscle and always watching for any sign to stop, began lightly circling over it. I waited, forcing my breathing to slow and all my focus on the closed off expression, seeking signs of discomfort or worry but the only hint I had that Yazoo was even paying attention was the uneasy tension in the leg over my shoulder. Gradually, that tension faded as the careful, slick touch lulled that most hidden of places and when I was certain it was okay, I eased one finger past that tight ring and into the passage beyond.

The leg over my shoulder instantly tensed up, my soothing hand fell to an uneasy hip and I had to gently hold Yazoo still. The hidden face buried deeper into the tucked up arm but not before I could see the worried, tight expression that crossed it.

"You okay?"

"What are you, why don't you just?"

"You're tight." That was an understatement but I didn't want to linger on that thought. "I don't want to hurt you this will make it so you don't get hurt. Okay?" There was no way I was going to be taking the night any further without some careful and serious attention to prepping the body below me; I knew how to at least do that despite my virgins status. "Hasn't anyone ever done this for you?" I wasn't sure I wanted an answer.

"Never like this, never so carefully," he managed to whisper.

"Relax" The tension held in the leg I was holding slowly faded and that's when I added a second and third finger. Only this time the leg only slightly tensed up and as I stroked in those carefully measured shallow caresses, the tension melted far more quickly. The sight, the feel, was almost more than I could stand. I watched each captured breath move in and out of that lovely chest, watched the beautiful face try to hide from sight. It made me ache with need. The moment Yazoo sighed softly and his hips arched in a small, lazy twitch, I took my cue and slid the fingers away.

Yazoo whined softly when the touch disappeared and managed to crack one eye open to watch me.

I knelt between his legs, the one draped up over my shoulder made Yazoo blush to see. I was looking down and Yazoo's eyes followed the movement to see me carefully stroking myself, spreading saliva across my own arousal.

I glanced up and was surprised to see those mako eyes open. I grinned a little and moved his hands away from himself, and mockingly displayed myself for inspection, but no teasing smile, not even a small grin, was returned. Instead something dark and shadowy flitted across the face below me, something I couldn't name and the eyes that watched me grew distant and sad.

"You're certain?" I whispered, hoping the look had merely been uncertainty, worry.

Yazoo only nodded and closed his eyes.

There was no resistance, no uncertain tensing, in the second leg as I raised it to my shoulder. I leaned my weight forward and carefully balanced myself. The desperate length of my cock slid against that fevered body, teasing, testing and when I saw no signs to stop, the tip found and pressed against the tense ring of muscle.

My strong arms were braced on either side of his shoulders, they trembled and sweat beaded up on the pale skin. My head hung loose on my neck and my thick unruly silver hair fell forward and disguised all but the tip of my nose. It was obvious from the tension in my whole body that I was easing into Yazoo slowly with a great force of will.

For me, it was almost too much. I bite the inside of my cheek and tasted blood in the effort it was taking to go slowly. There was no way I was going to hurt Yazoo, there was no way. I repeated that phrase in my head over and over, a mantra that did little to shut off the driving need to pound into that hot, tight pleasure. My breath burned in my chest and escaped in strangled, choked gasps but slowly, I was easing in, settling down and finally, after a torturous forever, I was fully in that welcoming passage.

I hung there, gasping for breath, trying to settle and adjust to the unbearable pleasure that poured across my body. I wanted to give Yazoo time to adjust but the legs had never tensed against him, the hips had never moved to push toward or away from him. When I thought I could stand to see the beautiful man below me and not loose control, I opened my eyes and fell into a sea of green.

I tried once and failed and than tried again to speak. "You okay?" my voice was ragged and broken even to my own ears.

Yazoo below just nodded, staring up at me with wide, unreadable eyes.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No."

"Let me know when you're ready," I groaned out, my arms shaking now, my body needing to move, needing to thrust and seek out the pleasure that would make this look like a mild tingle.

Yazoo's only answer was to turn his head and lick a bead of sweat that rolled down.

"Oh god…" I cursed as my eyes grew wide.

I moved, slid out with a hushed moan and slowly eased back in making sure the movement was gentle, careful. No rough urgency, no violent need, just gentle, slowly demanding, joining.

I leaned down and my lips kissed hot trails along Yazoo's face and neck, quick hungry tastes.

"Loz" he gasped.

"Yeah," my voice was strained and broken from the delicious torture I was facing.

"Would you mind, I mean, can we?"

"Say it love, whatever you want tell me. I'll do anything you want."

"I want to turn over. Is that okay?"

I moaned, low and tight in my throat. I lost the steady, slow rhythm I'd been holding and thrust roughly into Yazoo, forcefully but it didn't bring pain, instead it carried a pleasure that consumed me. He thrust hard back, forcing his hips against that rough taking and it pulled another hungry moan from me. My left arm collapsed and I scrambled to catch my weight on my forearm.

It broke the moment.

"Yeah, baby, that sounds nice," I sighed in breathless desire. With gentle ease I slid out, as careful removing myself as I was entering. When I'd finally extracted the now throbbing ache from the source of so much pleasure and torment, Yazoo whimpered softly below me.

I eased the legs that had to be cramping up by now as badly as my arms were off of my shoulders. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Yazoo shook his head and tried to ease away from those eyes that in the dim light, missed nothing.

"Tell me if I hurt you, I want to know."

"It's not that, I, don't laugh, I," he began, and after a deep breath continued, "when you pulled out, I've never felt so empty; I want you back in me" A small blush stained his pale cheeks.

I smiled and smoothed damp hair away. "Why would I laugh? That's how it's supposed to be- least I think it is, for I want you just as much." I couldn't help but claim another kiss, this one deep and full of the hunger before Yazoo slid away and turned over.

The idea that Yazoo was beautiful lying on his back exposed to a wandering eye was chased away. That was nothing; that was simple prettiness; that was a mild attraction, compared to the sight of Yazoo on his hands and knees. The long curtain of silver hair, hanging in damp strands down his back, showered out to either side. He was all long lines, long limbs, long muscles lean under pale lily skin. His spine bowed downward and his head swung, swiping the shower of silver across that rich expanse and down over a shoulder.

The sight stunned me, knocked me breathless. The tattoo of his unit number the showering curtain of hair pulled away to revel only added to the beauty of the moment.

I slid my hands down over that strong ass, cupping it, curving over it, tracing those lines. My hands went lower to the strong thighs and with gentle touches spread them wider. They fell open without resistance, and I accepted and moved to kneel between them. I took a hold of his throbbing erection and pressed it back into that still tight, still far too hot, passage. Only this time, I could watch myself entering the beautiful flesh below him. It was a sight I doubted I'd ever forget -and I have not forgotten to this day.

My strong hands slid over the small of his back down to allowing feather soft strokes slide down his ass, one finger dipping to tease the length of the suddenly hungry cleft, before lowering across hips. Down my hands went, studying, learning, to thighs and than there was the direction. Yazoo didn't need wait for me to ask again, he slid his knees wide.

I pressed the blunt head of that hard need against him and slid inside. There was no resistance this time, no discomfort; it slid into his body as if it belonged. It seemingly became part of him as if the two bodies had merged into one. It felt right and it made me feel whole and good.

I sighed and settled into him and when I moved it was barely an inch, sliding out just a fraction and sliding back in; shallowly, smoothly, as if the shallow thrusts would have been timed with Yazoo's heartbeat.

Over and over in slow, easy strokes; I only moved to shift angles and suddenly those shallow thrusts were sliding against something that made Yazoo howl in pleasure.

Oddly enough, I felt Yazoo try to move his hips so my shallow strokes didn't hit that betraying spot.

It confused me. From how Yazoo was starting to relax and respond I knew he was on the right spot but the lithe body below me was trying to get away from it, not trying to welcome more. Than I really saw what was before me. Yazoo was down on his forearms, face and neck tucked away and protected, legs spread and ass in the air in open invitation, it was sexy as hell but spoke more than words could. My mind added in those small movements to avoid the pleasure of their joining and the picture the whole created was as clear as crystal and just as brittle. It was something that needed to be addressed and stopped, not later but right now.

I ran a hand over the tense back in front of me. "This is how those soldiers used you isn't it?" I kept my pace slow, gentle, not changing rhythm and I didn't wait for an answer, I already knew it. "Like this, they could use you, hurt you, ride you as hard as they wanted and you didn't have to see it or let them see you."

Fraction by fraction, I slowly increased the depth of those slow, careful strokes, holding those hips in place so the added friction and pressure stayed right on that wonderful, perfect spot.

"I can understand why you'd think it's supposed to be that way." It wasn't easy to speak let alone put the swirling chaos of understanding into words but I had to. There were no options. There would be no finishing and discussion of this later. I couldn't just take my pleasure in this wonderful body now without speaking. That would make me no different than all those other men.

I was different.

Yazoo squirmed a little again, trying to escape the obviously increasing pleasure that was spreading across his body. "Just do it," he hissed out.

I swallowed hard and tried to focus. "Do what? Take you. Use you, like they did? Yazoo," I groaned and fought with myself, liking the idea of taking him harder. I promised myself that once they'd passed this battle I'd be able to and told my lust to shut up. "Do you want to know why I want you to enjoy this?"

Yazoo just gasped under me. His back was starting to shine with a light sheen of sweat.

"I'm taking you with such care because you're a virgin."

Yazoo pulled so hard away from the words, physically as well as emotionally, that he nearly pulled away from me. My strong hands held his hips steady and the depth of my careful, gentle strokes had increased, increasing the building pleasure with them.

"No," Yazoo hissed out. "You're wrong. I'm definitely not a virgin."

I leaned forward and kissed that teasing spine. "Of course you are. Virginity can't be taken, Yazoo. It can only be given. Those men, they took your body, they used it for their own lust. They took your body, not you."

Yazoo collapsed and would have fallen if I hadn't slid an arm around his waist. He curled up, trying not to hear those words. His arms folded around his head and his hands crossed on the back of his neck to protect it. "No,"

"Yes," I groaned, thrusting deeply now but still slowly. Teasing with the pleasure a really good fucking would bring us both, but it had to be welcomed by us both or I wouldn't go further. "They fucked your body, not you. I'm fucking you. Do you feel me? I'm not just in your body. I'm in you, because you gave me the gift of your virginity."

Yazoo sobbed a wracking sound of terror, disbelief, shame and hope, mingled together with warmth I couldn't name and a pleasure that was driving both of us mad.

"My touch," I went on, not thinking now, just feeling and speaking what I felt. "My touch wipes away their touch. My kisses cleanse away their mouth. My cock is the only one that has ever taken you. You are pure and I need you to feel the beauty of this." I pushed in hard and hit that spot.

Yazoo nearly strangled on his cry, and his hips thrust back. "No, I'm not, I'm not."

I tightened my arm around that waist and thrust in hard again. I was rewarded by a needy, almost desperate moan. "You are pure, Yazoo." I thrust again and the pleasure pulled a moan from both our throats. "You are innocent." Now those slow thrusts weren't so slow. I pushed in with all the force and need that Yazoo had feared. "I'm the only one that's taken you" I paused to accent my last word with another hard, long stroke.

"Yes," Yazoo sobbed and moaned. "Oh God, yes, please."

I leaned forward, bowing over that bent back and nipped hard enough to sting on that hunched up shoulder. "I'm going to take you, as hard as I want. I'm going to pound into you."

"Yes," Yazoo whispered.

"I'm going to fill you."

"Yes."

"There will be no room for anything but me, I'm going to take you so hard." I was growling the words out now, shivering with need.

"Oh, please, yes."

"You're going to enjoy every second."

Yazoo cried out as his hips pushed back hard onto my driving cock. Inviting the invasion deeper, needing it harder.

"Yazoo," my dark, demanding voice was barely above a whisper but it filled the room and Yazoo's world. "You're going to come with my cock hard in your ass and you're going to come before I do."

"More! Oh God, oh, please, more, harder, please, please."

I nipped the salty skin again, "anything my beautiful love wishes."

I used the arm around Yazoo's waist to pull the man up from where we'd slipped lower. My knees spread out, forcing Yazoo's out wider. I held on tightly to those slender hips, had a moment of clear thought left to make sure I was still on or close to being on that perfect angle and than I let himself go.

I took Yazoo with primal need. Pounding now forcefully and for every stroke in, Yazoo pushed back wanting more. The cell filled with the sounds of Yazoo's keening moans, each one a symphony of overwhelmed pleasure, our paired gasping breaths and the sensual, hot sounds of sweat slick skin scraping hard against sweat slick skin.

I closed his eyes, I wanted to keep watching, but I couldn't. The scents of sweat, need and sex were heavy in the cell. I was close, it felt too good, I'd teased too long but from the shuddering of Yazoo's body, the begging tone of his wordless moans, I could tell he was close to his own breaking point. I slide the arm around Yazoo's waist lower and my hand found the weeping, desperately neglected cock.

It took less than a dozen hard strokes, in time with my thrusts, for Yazoo to spasm and break the rhythm as he came. It was hard, consuming. Hot, jetting release spilled over my hand and splashed up onto that heaving chest. The cry that his release wrenched from his throat was loud enough that I was glad that the cells were sound proofed. It was a passing thought because Yazoo's climax had his entire body contracting, clenching, trembling; and as Yazoo fell from that great height I lost the fragments of my own control.

My hard pounding faltered and turned into deep, staccato jabs. I tried to bury myself as deeply as I could into that easing body as I came so hard for the first time, that I saw black floating spots in front of my vision. It didn't end, I prayed it would because I thought I might die other wise, but, oh, I never wanted it to end. Over and over my hips snapped into Yazoo's body, coming, filling, claiming in a wash of pleasure that almost hurt.

Than slowly he was coming back to himself. Yazoo was crushed beneath me. My softening cock was still buried in that warm passage and seemed happy to stay there. My breath burned in my throat and my pulse pounded hard. Both of our bodies were sweaty and sticky and I wasn't sure if I could move.

Only, Yazoo hadn't moved. He'd collapsed down but he hadn't moved. It worried me enough to have me withdraw out of that lovely ass, which pulled a soft whimper from the body below me. I rolled to the side, sliding in next to Yazoo, facing him and started to pry that buried head up to see into the face that was being denied to me.

When I managed to lift that head and brush back the heavy curtain of hair, I saw tears streaking down the beautifully open face. Yazoo closed his eyes and tried to turn his face away but I grabbed a hold of him and pulled him close.

"There now, it's okay. Shhh, it's okay."

Yazoo gasped and hiccupped and wiped brutally at the tears on his face. "Sorry," he muttered against my chest.

"Don't be. You're okay?"

Yazoo nodded and I kissed his head.

"Thank you," I sighed lovingly.

"For what?"

"For letting me be your first."

Yazoo shook his head. "You didn't really mean all that did you?" But he kept his face tucked against me, not allowing me to see his expression.

I hugged Yazoo closer, "of course I did."

That ran a shudder across Yazoo and for a moment I pulled Yazoo as close as he had pulled me.

We lay there for hours, held together closely. And in the morning, nothing changed. Except for one thing…

Yazoo never really talked again; only to me.

He would talk only to me, and usually only three words that conveyed everything his mind, body and soul wanted.

"I love you."

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**AN:**_**Oh my goodness! This is the longest chapter I have ever written, and it's ironic that about eighty percent of it is a lemon.**_

_**I really do apologize for my lack of updating, but that will be remedied. Now that a few things in my life have calmed down, I now have more time to place on writing; which I most definitely will do. **_

_**So thank you to all who reviewed, added to story alert, or favorite stories list. It really means a lot, and I sincerely apologize if I have yet to send you a personal thank you.**_

_**But anyway, enjoy this smexiful goodness, for I sure did. **_

_**By the way, THIS CHAPTER IS UNEDITED!!!**_

_**Kou-Shuurei**_


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